Surrender
by Chikai Tenshi
Summary: No man is an island. Every heart needs another to heal. It makes you a human being, a person. So tell me, Aoshi... what makes you think that you're any different? Sequel to Do I Need Love
1. Parting

   _No man is an island._

_            Every heart needs another to heal. It makes you a human being, a person. _

_So tell me…what makes you think you're any different? _

  Mischievous streams of autumn dawn inched their way into the room until they found a sleeping body, asleep and content with her dreams. Her long, black tresses caught the light and played with it, the sunlight turning them form black into a deep, dark brown that rippled as the sleeper tried in vain to bury her head into the pillow. Resigned to her fate, she yawned and stretched like a cat, wincing as her bare skin met the icy floor. 

   "And I was having such a fantastic dream," Makamachi Misao whispered to herself as she vent down to fold put her bed away. Her fingers smoothed the soft plush of her blankets, a rueful smile tugging at her lips. It seemed cruel, to force her to come back from a paradise.

  In a world where Aoshi Shinomori talked to her, smiled at her, laughed with her…kissed her… Her golden tanned cheeks stained pink as she shoved her bedding into the corner. 

   They were only dreams after all, ne?

 In reality, her situation with her beloved Aoshi-sama was getting worse every second. Instead of feeling like his equal, his Okashira even, she was beginning to suspect she was more like his maid, bringing his blasted tea every day without a thank you. She picked up her brush and started to brush at her knee length hair, the strokes getting more violent the more she thought about it. Damn it, she deserved something better, didn't she? 

  "But I'm too stupid to want something better. Too stubborn," she snapped, flinching as her comb caught a tangle, bright blue eyes stinging with tears at the pain.

  Yesterday, when she had brought him his tea, she had thought, just for a moment, that she had seen something in his eyes. For a brief moment, she had let herself hope. And then he had ruined it. 

            She sniffed back tears determinedly. He ruined everything.

   _"Get out, Misao."_

_        She blinked, not registering his words. "I beg your pardon, Aoshi-sama?" _

_"I said, get out."_

_     She bristled with hurt and indignation. "Aoshi-sama, are you all right?"_

_"Did you hear me? Are you deaf? I said _GET OUT_!"_

"Well," she smiled grimly. "At least that was the first time I've been able to get anything out of him since he came home." 

     Throwing open her closet, she tried to smile. Hell, she was young; she was pretty, wasn't she? And most of all, she was single, she thought. Not that that didn't come with a twinge in the heart, but it was fact. Okon was right. It was time for a change.

   Viewing her old kimonos with a critical eye, she brushed them aside and nearly purred with delight when she came across the blood red silk that she had splurged on the month before. Slipping it on, she sighed in pure feminine satisfaction. Scarlet silk molded to her like a second skin, deceptively moderately cut, hiding skin, but hinting at subtle curves and a slight waist. She moved to tie her hair, but after a slight hesitation, left it down. It billowed around her shoulders, down her back like an ebony waterfall. Critiquing her reflection in the cold glass, she tried to smile. Found she couldn't, and lowered her eyes.

            "I do not need him, that big oaf. If Makamachi Misao needs anyone…"

    She couldn't figure out how to end that sentence. She did not need anyone, she reminded herself. No one at all. 

    Muttering an oath, furious about hoe those words had left her feeling so… empty; she looked up in the mirror, picking up her brush. The reflection stunned her for just a moment.

    Opening her mouth to scream, his hand came swiftly down to cover her mouth. Recognizing the sweet smell of chloroform, she struggled, lashing out, but the surprise had her breathing in automatically. Her kunai were too far away, her limbs too heavy to move. Dimly, she heard something crash against the floor, a slight oath following it. Struggling vainly against the numbness overtaking her limbs, she cried out. Her brush dropped and shattered on the wooden floor.

  Makamachi Misao soon followed, the darkness triumphantly coming to claim its prize. 

                        =Aoshi…= 

      And miles away, a cup fell from his hand and shattered against the temple floor, its contents spilling blood over the cold stone. 

*peeks out from behind a corner* Uhm...hi? I just had this idea for a while, and wanted to do something about it before it left me. I know that I haven't really made any progress on _I'll Give You Forever _or_ Black Heart_, but I will soon! Well, I might…seeing as I've only gotten about three reviews for _black heart. _One really nice email from a fan meant a lot to me. You know who you are. If I continue with _black heart _it would really be due in a large part to you. Thank you. 

            Until Next Time!

                        ciao


	2. Pain

  Makamachi Misao dropped to the floor, the darkness triumphantly coming to claim its prize. 

            _Aoshi…_

    And miles away, a cup fell from his hand and shattered against the temple floor, its contents spilling its blood over the cold stone. 

_I bet that I'd miss you even more if you were gone._

       Somber streams of autumn dawn inched their way into the room until they found a sleeping body, asleep and plagued by dreams. Stirring immediately, he made as if to brush the warmth from his body, frowning as the sunlight stubbornly shone through the solitary window in the otherwise dark room. 

    Aoshi liked his room dark. _Like your heart, Shinomori?_ But he closed his eyes at the thought. He had learned to shut voices such as those out.

     Especially after…but it still hurt, he found, to think about it. 

      Shrugging on a _gi, _he walked to the window, looked outside, half hoping, half expecting to hear Misao's voice, to see her arguing with Shiro or Okina. The courtyard was gorgeous, the trees barren but the air crisp and clear. But it was left wanting without Misao. Everything was.

   A humorless smirk twisted his lips. Look at him. At what he had become- a mere shadow of a man, pining for someone that was taken away years ago. 

   Not only was it illogical to see Misao outside in the courtyard at this hour, it was also ridiculous to think that she would suddenly show up once more, out of the blue. Sighing a little unsteadily, he moved away from the offending scene to pass a long fingered hand over his drawn face. 

   Five years. It had been five long years since he had felt that chill down his spine in the temple. Five years since he had run to the Aoiya, shoving past startled customers and a concerned Okon, who was just mounting the stairs. There had been a small crash that was heard downstairs, followed by a small cry. He could still hear her explanation follow him up the stair as he rushed to Misao's room. 

   He could still feel the fear that engulfed him as he opened the door to emptiness. 

His breaths grew harsher, and he again closed his eyes to soothe. Why did he go through this every morning? Putting himself through hell, torturing his already battered soul with memories?

  The answer, he admitted, was simple. It kept her alive. 

       Sighing in defeat, Aoshi made his way downstairs, grabbing an apple from the kitchen to eat before going to the town. Taking his mail down from the shelf, he sat briefly at the table, leafing through the parchments as he ate.

  The kitchen was empty, and he was grateful. Okina had never forgiven him for what he had done to Misao the day before her disappearance. When Misao had run from the temple in tears, locking herself in her room for the rest of the day.  Aoshi read over the letters, his eyes not comprehending the _kanji_. Muttering a slight oath when he realized that he had read the same line for the last two minutes, he again closed his eyes in try and soothe. 

   What was he to do? What else would he had done, when she materializes out of nowhere at the same moment he tried to realize the truth about his feelings? 

  What indeed, he thought bitterly. Anything but those words. Anything but those hateful, angry words. 

   It still hurt, to know that the last memory he had of her was of her running from the temple, tears in her blue eyes, his angry shouts still ringing in his ears. 

  The guilt was overwhelming. It was suffocating. It was slowly killing him.

         Aoshi closed his eyes again, praying for the peace that had always seemed to elude him. What was it about him that always seemed to prevent true happiness from lasting? Brushing that rather depressing thought aside, he raised an eyebrow at a letter from Himura Kenshin. Scanning it briefly, he couldn't find the will to smile at the urging to visit Tokyo, to stay at the Kamiya dojo. 

   Getting out a piece of parchment, Aoshi contemplated his answer. He needed some rest, some peace. _Kami _knew that he needed to get away from the Aoiya. And a few days in Tokyo could help, he admitted grudgingly. He poised the brush over the parchment, ready to write his consent. 

   But it would also be as if someone had poured salt into an open wound. 

His hand stilled, the ink dripping onto the paper in a steady rhythm. 

  _Drip. _Megumi and Sano had married last month, and were expecting a child within the next few weeks. 

  _Drip._ Tae had also gotten married, and her daughter was just about to turn four.

  _Drip. _Yahiko and that serving girl were seeing each other.

  _Drip. _Even Himura had a marriage proposal planned within the month. 

Aoshi looked at the parchment. The _hai_ he had written was now completely obliterated, the ink stains drenching the paper. In a rare sign of weakness, he held his face in his hands and breathed harshly, a single bead of moisture burning his skin. 

 _"Ooh, I have always wanted a happy ending to everything. I hope that that stupid rooster head finally gets the nerve to tell Megumi that he loves her! And Kenshin had better propose to Kaoru in this lifetime, or else!  Ne, Aoshi-sama?"_

_  He nearly smiled at her earnestness. "Aa."_

The stillness of the kitchen was killing him. His weakness was humiliating. _But it wasn't fair._ Misao had wanted those things just as badly as her friends. It seemed wrong that she was not there to hear of the news as it happened. It did not seem fair that she might not be…might not be able to have her own happy ending.

   It would drive him insane to be trapped here, where there were too many memories. Better that he be looking for some sign of hope, to _do something, _instead of feeling infuriated at his own helplessness. Gathering his coat, he left, leaving the paper to cool on the table.

           _Domou Arigato, demo, iie. _

Thank you very much, but no. 

Shinomori Aoshi did not deserve peace. 


	3. Illusion

  


_If I loved you and didn't tell you, would you believe me?_

_ Would you tell me if I answered yes?_

  
  


Aoshi wanted to go back inside.

His hands were red and chapped, protesting at the frigid winds that slapped at them through the fabric of his well worn trench coat. He wouldn't even really be out in the town, not if it hadn't been for Okon and her incessant nagging for honey to go with the tea the Aoiya was serving . He had a sneaking suspicion that the sudden need for honey had come from the fact that everyone wanted him to get out of the house for a while. They were worried about him. 

He snorted. They were wasting their time. 

_Well, somebody has to, Aoshi - sama. _

He closed his eyes to the voice, finding it too soon in the day to hurt so much. 

"Fresh fish!"

He recoiled slightly from the face of a mackerel shoved in his path, its eyes bulging, its mouth forever open in a hopeless gasp for its non existent air. 

It had an infinite supply all around, and still couldn't breathe. 

He nodded his head no to the hopeful merchant, turning away from the ugly sight. Shaking slightly to rid himself of the lingering smell, he turned and eyed the line of shops skeptically. Where in the seven hells was he supposed to find _anything _in this mob of people?

Sighing heavily, Aoshi squared his shoulders, took a deep breath and entered the fray.

__

"Pretty lady." Beady eyes followed the slim girl through the restaurant, focusing particularly on the way her hips moved while she walked. His smiled, showing his few remaining teeth. They were conveniently stained yellow to complement the tapestries of the teahouse. 

The girl in question turned, eyes narrowing into ice blue slits. 

Not a man, she mused, whom you would take home to your mother. 

She smiled at him nonetheless, sparing him an inviting glance over her shoulder as she settled in for a drink at the counter. With one look, the bartender had a mug of steaming tea in front of her before he scurried away. 

The girl shrugged off her heavy coat and warmed her hands around the cup. She sipped slowly, taking in the people who were watching her. 

_ Strange... it is as if they know me from somewhere. _

Amused, she shook her head. But that was impossible. She had never been to Kyoto before. 

She caught snatches of conversation. 

"It couldn't be, could it....?"

"It would....five years..."

"The Aoiya ....Shinomori..."

_Shinomori_...

She set her cup down with a snap, tossing some yen on the counter before picking up her coat and stalking out the door. 

Shinomori Aoshi was not a happy man.

Considering murder, he looked down once more as another elbow poked him in the stomach. 

It seemed impossible that the one day he was stuck doing household chores instead of being out there and looking, the one day that he was _shopping_ of all things, everyone else in Kyoto had decided to do their shopping as well.

Sighing as he scanned the row of stores in disgust, he walked to the nearest shop and browsed the aisles. How many possible types of honey could there be? 

Picking a bottle at random, Aoshi took it to the store owner while reaching into his pocket for the yen he had placed there. 

A movement out of the corner of his eyes caught his attention.

_A long black braid..._

"Misao?" he whispered quietly, almost afraid to believe. Bowing a quick apology, Aoshi slammed the money in front of the bewildered shopkeeper, grabbed the jar and sprinted after the elusive vision. 

_I bet you can't catch me, Aoshi- sama! _

"MISAO!"

  


He ran, shoving people out of his way with a few quick muttered apologies. The braid seemed to be dancing just slightly out of reach. Every time he was close enough to catch a glimpse of the girl's face, some innocent person stepped in his way and risked being cut down by twin _kodachi_. All he could see was the braid and flashes of her blue kimono. 

_'It couldn't be, Shinomori'_ he argued with himself. _'She's been gone for five years! Surely you wouldn't just find her walking the streets of Kyoto in front of your very eyes!'_

But, oh, how he wanted to believe in foolish hopes again. 

He ran faster, urging people out of his path as the girl turned and headed towards the train station. She disappeared from sight as the gates swung open to admit her in. She must have a ticket, he realized with a sinking heart.

With a last burst of speed, he burst through the gates of the station ignoring shouts of protest, and looked wildly around.

People turned their gazes away and whispered to each other behind their gloved hands, but Aoshi saw none of it. All he could see was that black braid. 

There she was! After all of this time, he finally had hope. Forgetting everything else but her, Aoshi grasped the girl's arm.

_'Misao_.'

She turned, startled. 

And his hope failed. He could actually feel his heart drop to his knees. 

She did have a black braid. But her eyes weren't Misao 's. Nothing was.

He staggered away from the young woman's questioning gaze. 

He had let himself hope again, just for a fleeting instant. Just for an instant, he had thought that this living hell would end. 

He covered his face with his hands and leaned drunkenly against the stark white wall. 

But he was wrong.

If he would have looked up, he would have seen the pair of azure eyes that regarded him with a mixture of confusion, pity and contempt, peering out from a seat on the train. As the person turned, she tossed a single braid over her shoulder. 

_ 'Aoshi -sama...'_

  


_ Misao -chan will always love Aoshi - sama! Forever and ever and ever..._

Author's Note:

  


Whew! Another chapter of Surrender complete. Did you like the ending? People say that I have the gift of suspense. *beam* I hope that my writing isn't boring you or anything- I try! *sob* Some people have wanted me to leave an author's note...so...here it is. 

When I started this story, I actually only had one idea in my mind: a single line that I had used in my first ever Rurouni Kenshin fanfic. (Which will, due to its poorness, never see the light of day... -_-;) I'll be using it soon, but until then, ideas have just been swarming my mind. 

I started off as a vignette author- loving to explore the complexities of Kenshin and Aoshi's minds- how could they deny the hearts of the two women who loved them above all else? In vignettes I could try to explain, but the absence of plot always presented me with limitations. 

I started to write plot wise with, of course, Kenshin and Kaoru as my star couple. (And, sorry, btw, about the delay in I'll Give you Forever, I'm a very busy student...), and enjoyed putting them through different situations. If it was either exploring the lighter side of the rurouni in GYF or trying to explain the darker side of Battousai in Black Heart_,_I was in heaven. I started to concentrate on Kenshin and Kaoru instead of Aoshi and Misao, Aoshi one whom I also love to explore. But when I was reading through some of my early works, I found a quote that I had written. And Surrender was born. 

Aoshi and Misao are one of my favorite couples due to the inexplicable odds against them. The differences are astounding- not just the age, but their personalities and their maturity. 

I had always tended to find Misao annoying in the anime- or at least during the Kyoto Arc- and soon realized that I was wrong. Misao is one of the most mature characters in the series. To have the strength and courage to go out and search for her love, and then to have the patience to actually wait by his side for so long...It is truly admirable, to say the least. Aoshi is one that I had also tended to lean towards, not only due to the fact that he is one finely drawn man... (-_-;), but I'm also drawn to his soul. The darkness that threatens to devour him in this story is one that I imagine he has to face each and every day. How hard is it to be a manslayer or a samurai or a killer in a time of peace- where everyone fears and despises what it is that you represent? 

Thank you for reading. God Bless. *bows*

Until next chapter...

Chikai Tenshi


	4. Lies

_If I needed you, would you be there for me? Even if it was not me you needed yourself?_

Okon heard the _shoji_ slide open and smiled, her eyes never leaving the rice she was cooking. 

"Aoshi-san, did you get the– " 

The sharp slap of the door closing upstairs interrupted her sentence and stole her grin. Cursing briefly under her breath, Okon briefly turned to stir the soup on the fire. 

"He's lost something."

Okon let out a small shriek, flinging her hands up in the air as she whirled around. Shiro watched her with a raised eyebrow, a small smirk gracing his features. 

"Don't sneak up on me like that, you imbecile!"

Used to her moods, he shrugged. "It would serve you right, letting a boy sneak up on a ninja so easily." Ignoring her outraged sputter, he reached around her to snag an apple. Biting into it, he took his time chewing, letting the flush of anger fade from her cheeks. 

"He's lost something, you know."

"You've already said that." She turned back to the cooking, eyes blind with memories. "What makes you think that he's the only one?" she burst out with uncharacteristic bitterness. "How could one assume that he loved her more than I, than any of us, with what he did to her? Why would it be a greater loss to him?"

The air was tense around the pair, the silence only broken by Shiro's quiet munching. Turning to leave, the boy stopped. Without turning, he spoke softly, as to himself.

"Aoshi needed her more than anyone else. Without her, he is without himself." He looked at her then, a small smile on his face, and Okon wondered at the wisdom in the boy's eyes. "Don't you see, Okon? Do you not pity him?" 

"He deserves no pity."

"Then why do you give it to him? Why do you give him so many mindless errands to run, if not to get his mind off of her? To get him away from the emptiness of the room down the hall."

She opened her mouth to fire a retort, but paused, unsure of what to think.

"Without Misao-chan, Aoshi has nothing. Without her, Aoshi-san is without his soul." 

Shiro leapt gracefully out into the courtyard, peering up into the window of Aoshi 's room. There was no light of a burning candle, even as dusk was settling. There was no rustle of movement. Frowning as if he were disappointed, the boy took one last bite of his apple and tossed the core carelessly over his shoulder. Okon could not see where it fell. 

"Can you not pity him, Okon?" Shiro asked one last time. The wind whispered secrets as it gently touched his skin. "Without Misao, he is barely human." 

Okon stared out of the window above the sink, her eyes looking at nothing. She could not answer.

"It isn't fair..."

_"He deserves none of your love or devotion, Misao."_

_ Her light laugh failed to break Okon 's worried frown. Seeing that her friend's expression did not change, her voice sobered."I love him. There is nothing else I need to know other than the fact that I need him."_

_ "You cannot need someone else?" Okon tried to hold back her exasperation as the younger girl leapt carelessly onto the counter. "Do not think that I miss the way you die with each passing day. Why torture yourself like this? I can never understand."_

_ She gazed out the kitchen window as her long legs swung back and forth. Quietly, trying to explain something that remained unclear even to her, she murmured,"He needs me as well, Okon. I think that...I think that he needs me more than I need him." _

_Okon looked at the young sage, spellbound at her quiet dignity. Blue eyes pierced her as Misao leapt off the counter to fetch the tea tray. Loading what she needed to bring to Aoshi in the temple, Misao turned and smiled sadly at the older girl's bewildered expression. _

_ "Can you not pity him, Okon? I sometimes fear that we are all that he has left."_

The plate that Okon was washing shattered against the wall. By the time that Omasu ran in to see what was the matter, Okon had already curled up in a ball in the corner, tears shaking her body.

"Okon!" Omasu cried. She grabbed a damp dishcloth and bent down to help. "Okon, what happened? Are you all right?"

Dark eyes caught and held Omasu 's frightened gaze, and refused to let go. 

"Omasu, I've done something horrible."

Omasu was silent, wiping away her friend's tears. But her next words had the dishcloth falling from her hands in shock. 

"Omasu, I know where Misao-chan is."

"But...but that's impossible! We all told Jiya that we had no idea!"

Okon could not answer, screaming in shame and flinging away any helping hands that her friend tried to offer. "I lied! I lied!"

As Omasu fell back to let the wall hold her weight, Okon 's eyes widened in genuine fear as she saw who had stopped suddenly at the doorway.

"_Nani?"_

_ "Can you not pity him, Okon? I sometimes fear that we are all that he has left."_

_"Can you not pity him, Okon?" _

"I pitied him!" she screamed, her eyes welling up with tears. "I pitied him more than anyone will every know!"

As Omasu tried vainly to subdue the ninja's flailing fists, her own tears splattered on the floor.

"Omasu, I pitied him! I did! But can no one understand?"

Omasu tried to hush the girl, eyes fearful of the reaction of the man who's eyes were horrified at the spectacle in front of him.

"I _loved _him too..."

  


_Sometimes telling lies is harder than telling the truth. _


	5. Betrayal

_Sometimes telling lies is harder than telling the truth. _

Okina tried vainly to block out the words that he had just heard. Covering his ears with his wrinkled hands, he slumped to the floor as he watched Omasu try to console the hysterical Okon.

"Okon ...how could...how could you?"

"I loved him!" she screamed, lunging towards him and falling at his feet in sobs. Omasu covered her mouth with shaking hands. Nothing seemed real anymore, nothing seemed right. 

"Oh, _Kami_, I loved Aoshi-san too!" Okon screamed, tears running down her pale skin. "It wasn't fair! Why should he love Misao! Ever since I can remember, its always been Misao! Misao, Misao, Misao! Misao can have anyone else she wants, why can't she choose another one? I loved him, damn it! _I _did! _I_ did!"

Okina's eyes were hard, and he shied away from her grabbing hands. "So you chose to lie to all of us and in turn hurt the one you claim to love?" His voice grew louder, more desperate. "_Kami, _Okon, how could you do such a thing!"

Omasu looked up sharply as Shiro entered the kitchen, the tray he held clattering to the floor as he viewed the chaos. 

"So..." he murmured, crouching down to try and pick up the jagged pieces. "The truth has come out, has it?"

Okina whirled to face the younger boy, his temper evident in his face. "Do not tell me that you knew as well, Shiro!"

"Of course not," Shiro replied calmly. "But I came to guess that something was wrong. Come, have you seen no evidence at all? She's always sending Aoshi-san on some random and completely pointless quest for some food item that we have four or five of in the pantry. Do you notice who places the tea out in front of Aoshi-san's _shoji_? Who sometimes sits in front of his room when she thinks that no one is watching?"

Okon screamed, moving to strike the younger boy. "You! You knew!"

Shiro easily avoided being hit, and looked sadly down at the girl's slumped form. " Do you think I enjoy exploring the man's subconscious? Why else would I waste words, explaining to you what Misao and Aoshi-san have?"

"What I could have had!" she shrieked, eyes wild. "What I could have had!"

"Okon, calm yourself!" Okina was appalled. "Tell us- where is she? Where is Misao!" 

Okon's eyes were glazed and wild. But her voice was steady. "I'll never tell."

"Okon," Omasu pleaded. "Please! Where is Misao!" 

"Yes, Okon."

The room stilled in shock as the icy voice penetrated the room mercilessly. Okon's body seemed to seize convulsively, her sobs quieting in a tense anticipation. 

Aoshi stood at the doorway, his eyes unforgiving and cold. Shiro closed his eyes and sighed in resignation. Omasu covered her face with her hands.

"Tell us, Okon," Aoshi continued, his hand tightening into a fist. His whole body seemed to hum with barely contained fury. His voice was deceptively soft. "Where _is _Misao?" 

Okon began to scream. 

The tray clicked softly on the stone of the floor as Shiro placed it next to Aoshi. He hesitated, and then joined the swordsman, sitting in a lotus position. The young man briefly wished to return to the Aoiya. It had taken an hour to calm the hysterical Okon, but at least the most she could do to him was punch and kick. He winced as his numerous bruises reminded him of just how strong the ninja girl was. But, still, he mused, that was nothing compared to what Aoshi might do if Shiro was unlucky enough to break his temper. He warily eyed the kodachi that rested only a few inches away.

The meditating man stirred. 

"Leave me."

"Aoshi -san," Shiro drew in a deep breath and then let it out in a soft woosh. "I know this is hard, but please do not hate Okon."

Aoshi was silent, his eyes closed to the world. 

"She..." Shiro struggled for the right words to say. He watching blindly as the wind made the temple chimes ring gently. "She cared for you, and for Misao. She just..."

"Shiro."

Shiro bowed his head and rose, his eyes sympathetic. "I know."

"Where is she?"

Shiro bit his lip in agitation, his normally calm posture shattered. Aoshi's countenance darkened. He could sense it, Shiro knew. 

"Surely Okon has told you?" he questioned, opening his eyes. Shiro nodded dumbly, scrambling for the right way to phrase what no one should ever hear.

_Oh, hell. _

"Aoshi," the boy blurted out. "Okon says that Misao is getting married."

The wind chime fell from the temple ceiling with a musical crash, the shards raining out over the stone. 

_Forgive and forget? Impossible. I will never forget you. And for that, I could never forgive you. _

Author's Note:

Gomen Nasai! I've been so busy lately, with tests and midterms and APs and SATs... @-@ But now that I'm on vacation, I should be able to get a few updates out. Be on the lookout! 


	6. Confusion

_Forgive and forget? Impossible. I will never forget you. And for that, I could never forgive you. _

"Did you enjoy your day, my love?"

The stunning woman turned slowly towards the man and smiled softly as she had been taught. "It was eventful, Hitomouri- _san._"

Hiromouri Shinji's handsome face softened and he ran a rare gentle hand down his fiancee's long tresses. Without warning his grip tightened almost painfully. If she felt any discomfort, none showed in the serene gaze she turned to him with.

"You told me that you would get rid of this thing," he murmured, holding up the end of her braid. Her eyes flashed, a light quickly banked.

"I'm sorry, Shinji- _san_. It must have slipped my mind."

He lifted his shoulders, dismissing it. "No matter. As long as you get rid of it soon. It displeases me."

She turned back to her knitting. "As you wish."

"I have been told that you went to a tea house in town. Is this true?"

Her hands stilled, paused before resuming her knitting. "_Hai."_

"You won't do so again." There was no room for argument in his voice. She merely nodded.

He rose from the floor, made to leave. Turned back to see her staring at her hands.

"Kagura."

The girl who used to be Mackimachi Misao looked up, her smile at once lost and quizzical. "_Hai?"_

He shook his head and leaned down to kiss her, a secret smile in his dark eyes. "Never mind."

0000000000

Okon could feel his hate from across the room and despaired.

_I never wanted to make you hate me, Aoshi. You must believe me_. _I _never _wanted to hurt you._

But she knew that it would be a waste of breath to say such things. The only thing she could do was come clean.

She took a breath. "I saw her about a month or so ago," she began, ignoring the gasps of her audience. "At the marketplace in Osaka, when I went for my vacation, remember? We had touched hands accidently, reaching for the same thing..."

_The white hand brushed her own, and she looked up. The world stopped. _

_"Misao?" she breathed, afraid to hope. "Misao-chan, is that you?"_

_ The girl turned to face her, a small frown marring her pretty features as she placed an apple in her bag. "I'm sorry, do I know you?"_

_Okon had to steady herself. The woman who stood in front of her was taller than the petit girl that she remembered. Gone were the grubby knees and the ever present smear of dirt on porcelain skin. What stood in front of her was a vision draped in red silk, eyes quiet and sad. The braid hung, limp silk, down her back._

_ Okon blinked back tears. This is what Misao would have looked like in five years. _

_She cleared her throat quickly, afraid that she would disappear. "Misao. You're Misao."_

_ The vision smiled, one that failed to reach blank eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm afraid that you've found the wrong person. My name is not Misao."_

_ Okon could not believe it. She shook her head. "Misao." She reached out, only to snatch her hand back as an attractive man appeared at the woman's side. The other woman stiffened as well, and straightened. It was as if a shield had slipped down in his presence. _

_ "Kagura, is there something wrong?"_

No, she's not Kagura, _Okon wanted to scream, _her name is Misao, and she belongs with me.

_"No, Shinji- _san._ This woman just mistook me for someone else."_

_The man turned dark eyes to the thunderstruck ninja girl, a sneer curling his lip before settling into a gracious smile. Okon wondered briefly if she had imagined it. _

_ "As you can see, this woman is my fiancee," he said. He took his fiancee's hand in a death grip. She winced only for a second. He started tugging her after him, barely sparing Okon a second glance. "And we must be leaving."_

_ Okon opened her mouth, reluctant to see the woman leave. "But..."_

_ The woman turned back, her eyes clear for an instant. Okon's heart leaped as she finally saw a trace of the weasel girl that she had been. "Okon?" she mouthed. Then he hauled her away. _

_ "Misao!" Okon broke out of her stupor and started to follow the couple, shoving away the people who moved to separate them. "Misao!"_

_ But she was gone. _

"I tried to follow her, but I couldn't get past the crowd that had suddenly appeared." Okon closed her eyes and leaned back, incredibly weary. "And by the time I had, I could not find a trace of either of them."

"In Osaka?" Okina asked. "What was she doing in Osaka?"

"Why did the man call her Kagura?" Omasu wanted to know.

Shiro spoke up, his voice thoughtful. "Are you positive that this Kagura is actually Misao?"

Okon whirled to face the boy, her eyes fiery. "I know Misao. That woman was her. She knew me, Shiro. It was Misao. She's alive. And I know where she is."

"Then let us go to Osaka!" This from Okina.

"We cannot."

Heads turned sharply to view the quiet Okon. "Why not!" Okina demanded impatiently.

"She is not there."

"Then where is she, Okon?" This came from Aoshi, and everyone turned to him with baited breaths. His face was kept carefully blank, but everyone could see what turmoil lurked in his eyes.

_Oh, I never wanted to hurt you, Aoshi. But I had thought..._

Thought what? That she would be able to leave her friend the way she was, confused and alone? What had she thought?

She sighed, kept her gaze on the floor, hating herself. "She's here. Misao is in Kyoto."

000000

"Kagura."

She looked up from her plate, her practiced smile in place. "_Hai_, Shinji-_san_?"

"Kagura, I am going to be absent tonight."

She nodded, "All right."

"You are not to leave the house, Kagura."

The woman she would have been would have protested at the order. The woman who sat at the oak table simply nodded her consent and pushed her food across the china. She did not look up as he rose, merely turned her face upward as he came across the table to kiss her.

"Do not leave this house, Kagura."

She smiled and assured him that she would not. Satisfied, he kissed her pale cheek once more before departing. The door clicked behind him.

Still smiling, the woman turned back to her food. The moonlight slanted through the window, bathing the long figure like a spotlight. Shaking back her newly shoulder length hair, she brought her chopsticks to her mouth.

A single tear slid, unnoticed, down her skin.

_What good is an angel with chained wings and a heavy heart?_

Coming up next: Aoshi and Misao meet for the first time in five years! Don't miss it ☺


	7. Past

_What good is an angel with chained wings and a heavy heart?_

"She is in Kyoto?" Aoshi's voice was deceptively mild, his eyes giving nothing away. "For how long, Okon?"

She looked away. "A week."

A week. Aoshi fought back laughter, knowing that it would be his ruin. He had been looking for her for five years and she had been in Kyoto, under his nose, for a week.

"A week." Okita murmured, his eyes revealing nothing. "She's been in this city for a week?"

Okon could only nod dumbly. "_Hai._"

"Where, Okon?" Shiro asked softly, sadness in his dark eyes. "Where is she?"

"I-I don't know."

Aoshi stood up abruptly, upsetting the table. The dishes and cups shattered on the floor around her shaking body. "_Where the hell is she!"_

"Aoshi-_sama!_" Omasu stammered, moving in front of her friend as if to protect her. "Aoshi, please calm..."

"_Iie._" His voice was low and strained. He allowed the dark hair to hide his tormented eyes. "I have been waiting, searching for five years. I grow weary of being lied to. I am sick of your lies. _Just tell me the truth and be done with it._"

"She's getting married you know," Okon spat, her eyes teary. She got a sick sense of triumph with his visible wince. "Why would you want to see her, when she belongs to another?"

Aoshi fought the urge to tear his hair out, opting instead to close his eyes. Okon's tearful, pleading expression was too much for him to bear.

"Where, Okon. Tell me now."

She couldn't help it. "Why?" It was her pleading with him. _Misao is happy, she doesn't remember you. Couldn't you move on? With me?_

__"Because I need to see her."

"Why?" Okon shrugged off Omasu's restraining hand. "WHY!" _Why does it always have to be Misao? Why isn't it fair? It just doesn't seem fair..._

"I'll tell you," she whispered. "I'll tell you where I saw her. But you have to tell me _why_."__

He laughed, and it was bitter. It sent chills up her spine. "You ask why?"

She nodded dumbly.

Aoshi turned, the frayed edges of his trench coat whipping around his legs. Before moving silently to the door, he turned once, shooting a look so filled with emotion that Okon had to turn away.

"Because I can't keep living like this."

_It's tearing me apart. _

000000000

Himura Kenshin paused and looked up from his washing, amethyst eyes squinting in the sun. _Something wasn't right._ There was a chill in the air, something that crawled up his spine. Scanning the Kamiya dojo's courtyard and seeing nothing threatening, the rurouni shrugged and continued to hang the clothes on the line.

_Perhaps I'm just nervous, de gozaru. It isn't like things are going smoothly lately._

The redhead gave into the urge and sighed. His plans of a marriage proposal were not going as well as he had hoped. Even with Sanosuke and Yahiko gone, he just hadn't been able to pop the question. And damn it, the ring was burning a hole in his _gi's _pocket.

"There just always seems to be something in the way," he growled, shaking out the _kimono_ with a little more force than necessary.

_Or maybe you're just a coward, wondering if she would actually say yes after all you've put her through. Now if we had just listened to me in the first place..._

__Kenshin rolled his eyes. Always nice to have the Battousai's moral support.

"Once I find out what's hindering me, I'll get rid of it," he declared. He fingered the wooden box lovingly. "And then everything will be perfect."

_Now if only this chill would go away_...

0000000000

Shinji smiled as he watched the slight man walk towards the dojo, glancing large violet eyes warily over his shoulder every now and then.

_Obviously there's a reason he is called the most feared man of the Bakamatsu._

No one had ever been able to sense his presence. Hitomouri Shinji had never been particularly skillful with a blade, but he was arguably one of the best ninja's in all of Japan.

But the blow to his pride was small, he reminded himself. Himura was not who he had taken the train to see today.

After the rurouni had left for the market, still shooting skeptical glances around the grounds, a movement in the corner of Shinji's eyes caught his attention. Shifting silently from his perch on the tree limb, Shinji watched the young beauty exit her room, closing the _shoji _behind her and calling the Battousai's name.

What had the Battousai said? Ah, yes.

_There just always seems to be something in the way. Once I find out what's hindering me..._

Shinji grinned softly as the girl walked closer to his hiding place, her voice clear and unafraid as she called for the rurouni again. Silently, he drew his dagger.

_I'll get rid of it._

_And everything will be perfect._

000000000000

"Kenshin!"

Kaoru fumed in silence, her large blue eyes clouded with worry. The rurouni had been nervous and fidgety for two weeks. What was going on?

_Would he leave me again?_

The thought threatened to depress her, so she pushed it away. Something was definitely amiss. Now if only Kenshin would talk to her about it...

"Kamiya Kaoru."

Kaoru looked up and gasped, her eyes wide at the sight of the small, handsome man boldly swinging his legs from his seat on the branch. Her mouth formed a slight 'o' of exasperation when she spotted the glint of a blade in his right hand.

"Kenshin's not the Battousai anymore," she fumed, tossing her head and preparing to stalk off. "Go and waste your life doing something else."

Shinji grinned at that. So the _dojo_ master thought that he had come for the Battousai? How amusing.

"She dreams of you," he murmured.

Kaoru stopped walking, her breath stopping as she slowly turned around to meet his dark gaze. The man was obviously out of his mind. "What?"

"Every night as of late." Shinji lept soundlessly out of his perch and leaned against the trunk with a lazy attentiveness. "She says your name. Kamiya Kaoru. It annoys me."

_Is he talking about Kenshin? I told him to get rid of the gi..._

"Look, mister..."

But the blood had drained from her face and the words stuck in her throat.

Shinji's ear twitched as he heard the snap of a twig behind him. Whirling, he smiled slowly, finding himself looking down at a young, spiky haired boy.

_The student defending the master? How ironic._

"Kaoru, get behind me," Yahiko ordered, his palms sweaty on his _bokken_.

"Leave us, little one."

Yahiko swallowed his automatic protests of the title. "Kaoru! Kaoru, get behind me!"

But all she could do was stare dumbly at the thing clutched in the man's pale hand.

_A black braid...tied with a green silk ribbon. A ribbon that she had given to a certain ninja girl for her birthday five years ago. _

The ribbon that the certain ninja girl had promised never to take off.

"Misao?"

000000

In town, Kenshin's head snapped up, his eyes filled with worry. "Kaoru-_dono_?"

_Something was wrong..._

__So he ran, halfway to the _dojo_ before the tub of tofu broke on the ground.

000000

"I need to go out," the girl who was once Misao whispered. The room was suffocating. She felt as if she would go insane if forced to stay.

_But if Shinji found out that I had disobeyed..._

She sobered immediately.

_"Kagura, you've done it again."_

_She protested loudly, raising her fists. "I'm not Kagura, you sick sonofabitch."_

_He ignored her protests. Her blows were pathetic, considering that she had refused to eat for the last few days."You were talking in your sleep."_

_He reached inside his jacket and produced a small blade. "You said his name."_

_She lifted her chin, a last defiance. "I don't know what you're talking about."_

_He kissed her then, his mouth hot and intruding. Struggling with the urge to vomit, she twisted away, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. _

_Shinji cursed, wiping away the blood that she had drawn from his lip. Muttering a savage oath, he backhanded her, watching in satisfaction as she crumpled to the floor. He knew that she was too weak to fight him._

_And by the time she was strong enough, there would be no fight left. _

_"Haven't I told you not to disobey me? Haven't I?" His eyes grew wild, and he raised his hand. She couldn't find the energy to do anything but close her eyes. "YOU SAID HIS NAME!"_

_Her blood splattered the walls. But she couldn't bring herself to scream. _

The girl they called Kagura frowned, touching a white finger to her throbbing temple. She hadn't been able to get enough sleep with these nightmares plaguing her.

"I have to get out," she repeated, her voice a little stronger than it had been. Resolute, she dressed and grabbed her purse. Stopping to check her surroundings- odd, how she could never remember Shinji teaching her this as he claimed- she slipped out, unnoticed.

Shivering slightly in her new found power, the girl walked boldly into the marketplace. Spying a fruit stand, she squared her shoulders and walked towards it.

And slammed directly into someone, knocking the wind out of her lungs.

"I'm sorry," she apologized, bowing quickly to hide the sudden panic in her eyes. What should she do? If Shinji-_san_ were here, he would have known the right things to say.

_And then he would have slapped me for my carelessness once we were home. _

The woman banked the small voice of rebellion.

"Again, many apologies," she murmured respectfully, straightening and preparing to move aside.

She found her shoulders gripped desperately, jerked in surprise.

And looked up into tormented ice eyes.

"Misao."

0000000000000

Aoshi felt his knees weaken, and he gripped the girl's shoulders painfully though she showed no sign of pain.

_My God, it is Misao._

He nearly laughed. Nearly, but found he could do nothing but stare. He had literally bumped into her in the street. What were the odds of that? Was fate enjoying this? Tormenting him?

His eyes drunk in the sight of her, his heart straining to burst. She had grown some, but was still petite. What had once been adolescent promise had given way to the full blown beauty of maturity.

_My God, was she always this beautiful? This perfect?_

"Misao."

But there was no braid. And no laughter in her eyes.

"Misao."

There was a bruise on her cheek bone, and his fingers dug into her skin deeper.

"Misao."

She opened her mouth and closed it, her eyes blank what he feared was confusion.

_Could you have truly forgotten? Forgotten the Aoiya? Forgotten the Oniwabanshu?_

"Misao."

_Forgotten...me?_

She didn't struggle, and his heart sank. "I'm sorry, sir. I'm afraid that you have the wrong person."

"Misao." He found that he could say nothing else.

Her eyes grew dimmed. "I'm sorry, sir. I'm afraid that you have the wrong person."

"Misao."

Something flickered in her gaze. Rage. "This is the second time I've been mistaken for that girl. I regret to inform you that _I am not her._"

"Misao."

Something snapped. "Stop calling me that!" she spat, wrenching out of his painful grip. "My name is not Misao. My name is Kagura. I suggest that you go home, Aoshi-_sama_, and leave me alone."

They both stilled, realizing the same thing at the same time.

"How...how," she stammered, growing pale.

_He had never told her his name._

"Oh, my god," she breathed, covering her face with equally white hands. "Oh, my god, oh, my god."

He dared to take a step closer to the shaking girl. His heart seemed to explode from his throat with each beat.

"Do you remember?"

She looked up, her eyes clouded. She raised a shaking hand to her abdomen, and Aoshi fought down bloodlust as he watched her wince.

Someone had dared to touch what was his.

"Do you know me?" He wanted to shake her, but instead kept his hands down at his sides, his fingers digging painfully into his palms. "Do you?"

00000000000000000

"I don't know," she whispered tearfully, her voice muffled by her hands. "Oh, God, I don't know."

Whirling, she shoved and stumbled her way out of the market place, urging her feet to move faster when she heard his delayed shout of alarm.

Weaving and ducking past startled shoppers, the girl raced home as if the hounds of hell were at her heels.

And to be honest, with the way this man was screaming that name, that idea suddenly didn't seem too ridiculous to her.

Panting with exertion- she had lost her _tabi_ somewhere down the line - she leapt up onto the balcony, slamming the door behind her and leaning her forehead against it as she heard his voice shouting that girl's name and pounding on the gate.

"Kagura."

She stiffened and turned slowly, facing the knowing countenance of her fiancé. As always, she was hit with a kind of flaring hatred that faded as quickly as it had come.

"Shinji-_ san."_

__"Kagura, who is that at the gate?"

She struggled not to flinch at his measured tone. "A man that followed me home from the market."

For once, Shinji simply smiled. She relaxed fractionally. He seemed to be in a good mood tonight, and she wondered about it. She was loosening up enough to let a small, uncertain smile unfurl when a muffled sound caught her attention.

"Ah!" Shinji smacked his forehead with the flat of his palm. "How idiotic of me, forgetting that I had brought you a present."

She dared not move, her eyes riveted to the large box that her fiancé had placed at his feet.

_Was there _someone _in there?_

There was another muffled thump, as if to support her guess. She felt sick.

Shinji bent down and flipped the lock with a flourish, keeping his gaze on his fiancee as the lid sprung open.

A dark haired girl lurched up, sweat running down her face, dampening her clothes. She was gasping for breath, her small hands grasping at her chest. There was dried blood on the silk.

The girl who used to be Misao stiffened, pain flickering behind her eyes as something throbbed in her head.

_I have seen this girl before. _

A flash of laughter rang in her thoughts, and she could see this girl grinning at her in her mind's eye. _Impossible. _Her hands covered her ears and the room tilted. _What was going on?_

The dark haired girl scanned the room quickly before coming to rest on Kagura. Her face went white before she gasped in pain as Shinji roughly hauled her up by her long hair.

"Do you like your gift, my love?"

_No matter how far I run, I seem always crash into you. Is there no escape?_


End file.
